Mouse Acts of Amazing Courage
by 2lieutenant
Summary: Sequel to The Adventures of Felix the Mouse and His Human. How did Felix come to live at Stalag 13? And what are his thoughts on the more serious missions? What role did he play? Excuse me, vital role. Do stop interrupting, Felix. I'm writing this, not you. Yes, but it isn't your story. For Snooky
1. Chapter 1

_**This is for Snooky. She wanted Felix's take on Two Nazi's for the Price of One. I will do some of the more serious episodes as well as flesh Felix's character out a little more in this story. **_

**How I Came to Be**

 _Bonjour_ everyone! My name is Felix. I'm Carter's mouse. Do you remember me? Of course you do, how could anyone ever forget me? I'm simply unforgettable. As I was reading my previous account of my life, I realized I hadn't started at the beginning. I jumped right into the middle and never looked back. But now I am going to look back. We'll start at the very beginning, because that is a very good place to start. The very best, I should think.

I was born in a warm _hofbrau_ in Hammelburg. My first memory was of me being bathed in beer.

A few days after I was born, my father came home one day to find my mother in the midst of pouring his best thimble of beer over me. He sighed deeply. "What are you doing now, Giselle?" My mother wasn't always quite right in the head. It was after a particularly bad encounter with a cat. After that meeting, she would occasionally do rather odd things. My father loved her dearly, though, and always put up with whatever eccentricities she had.

My mother looked up and smiled softly at my father. "I'm just bathing our son, dear. We don't want him attracting flies, do we?"

My father blinked. He was quite used to whatever odd things my mother would occasionally do, but this what something else. He decided to tread carefully. Very wise of him, I should think. "Of course not, my dear, flies are the most despicable creatures. But why bathe him in beer? My best beer? Surely water would have done the job?"

My mother just waved a hand, or should I say, a paw. "Don't worry, Gilbert, it shouldn't do him any harm. I don't think," she said in an afterthought. "I'm sure it will do him more good than harm. Might toughen up his constitution. Besides, dear, around here, water is so much more expensive than beer. I'm just being frugal. Isn't that what you've been trying to teach me?" She beamed at him.

My father paused before speaking. It was true, he was trying to teach her to be more economical. He was glad Giselle was at least listening to him and complying, no matter how badly. Still, using his his most expensive beer was hardly being frugal. He had to say something. "Yes, my dear, and I am glad you're trying. That makes me very proud of you. However, did you have to use my favorite and most costly beer?"

"Oh, it was?" asked my mother in a meek voice.

Father nodded. "I'm afraid so, my sweet."

Mother wrung her hands. "I'm very sorry, Gilbert. I guess I forgot to look at the label." She pointed at me. "But he does seem to be enjoying it, don't you think? Look at how shiny his fur is! He will grow up to be just as handsome as his father."

Her words were rewarded with a proud smile. He glanced at me. "Yes, he will, won't he?" Father swept my mother up in his arms and kissed her soundly, all thoughts of his beer forgotten. Whoever said 'flattery will get you nowhere', had clearly never met my father.

My mother found beer was an excellent way to deter cats as well as fleas. So bathed in beer I continued to be, as well as all my siblings who followed, just not in my father's best beer.

I have two sisters and one brother. Marlene and Doris, were my sisters' names. My mother had a fondness for American movie stars, well, really all movie stars, but especially American ones. My brother was named Sylvester. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention. My parents also had a peculiar sense of humor. Which is how my brother and I found ourselves given cat names. Can you believe it? Cat names! My parents later explained it was to ward off cats. Apparently they thought by them giving us cat names, it would save us from getting eaten by one. I know, don't ask. Well, let's get on with my story.

I was born into this world knowing pretty much all I needed to know. Mice are, you know. We have to be because for us, there is never enough time in the day. We can't waste what time we do have trying to be taught everything. Of course, we do pick up small tidbits of information, but we don't seek it out. You may be wondering how such small creatures as ourselves think there isn't enough time in a day. After all, you say, you're two hundred times smaller than us. If anything, there should be too much time for you. And you would be right. That is how things used to be, but with all these new inventions and cheeses, we have to constantly be on the run. Take our _hofbrau_ for instance. We had so much to do, we barely ever slept. The reason was because we needed to fetch all the scraps of food and trinkets we got from those who came to the _hofbrau_. My mother hated to see anything go to waste. Which is probably how I found myself sleeping next to an old rattle from a rattlesnake. My brother got it off some little boy who had come here. Why this little boy was at a _hofbrau_ , I'll never know. Which is probably for the best. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

So that was our life. Relatively uneventful but full of us scurrying to and from our hole in the wall to the dining room. At least, that's what my mother called it.


	2. Chapter 2

**My First Adventure**

I first ventured out into the World of the Unknown Dining Room when I was about two months old. I had just been given my first sword. A beautiful shiny new needle. It must have been from a tailor's bag. Now I know you're wondering if giving a needle (quite a deadly weapon in the hands of a mouse)to a young mouse, is a good idea. I assure you, it is. Quite a good idea, I mean. Capital. Okay, where was I? Oh, yes, the Unknown Dining Room. Earlier that day I had been presented with my sword.

"Now, Felix," my mother cautioned, "be very careful with this. You may play with it, but it is mainly for your protection. Do you understand?"

I was too busy dueling with an imaginary foe to answer. We faced each other and I scowled fiercely at him. We circled each other, grim looks of determination on our faces.

"Felix!"

I jumped out of my fur. Figuratively, of course. That would be weird if I actually did it. As talented as we mice are, we cannot do such a thing. I turned to my mother and nodded. "Yes, Mother, I understand perfectly. Don't worry, if any harm comes to you, I will protect you with my life!" I ended this passionate declaration with an impressive thrust of my sword. I beamed at my mother. "See?"

She smiled weakly. "Just be careful, Felix. I don't want you to accidentally hurt someone." She wrung her hands, I mean, paws. "Oh, I told Gilbert we shouldn't have given such a thing to him," she murmured to herself. "He's too young for such a thing. He will hurt himself or someone else or break something. Oh, what should I do?"

My mother continued on in this vein for quite some time. I paid no attention to her thinking it was simply one if her "eccentric" spells. Father would never call it anything else, and he forbade us from using any other term. The one time we did, he became angrier than we had ever seen him. He did seem regrettable things that day. We soon learned our lesson. My father loved my mother too much to ever let even the slightest unkind thing be said about her. It wasn't that he didn't see her flaws, he did, he just couldn't bear to say them. They say love is blind, but I'm inclined to disagree. Love isn't blind. Love is about acknowledging each other's shortcomings and loving each other in spite of them. Just my opinion. Oh, would you look at the time? I must be on with my story. My deepest apologies.

I simply ignored her ramblings and continued to parry with my made up enemy. I lunged right and left, thrust up and down, waved my needle in elaborate circles. With intricate footwork, I danced around my opponent. He lunged at me, but I blocked the blow with a skillful flick of my hand. We continued to dance around each other till I found my opportunity. I thrust at his weak side. He blocked my sword with his and tried to push me to my knees. But I was stronger. I applied a strong, even pressure to my sword, causing him to sink to his knees in defeat.

I pumped my paw in delight. I had won! I had won! I ran around reenacting my masterful win. At last I tired. I looked at my mother, triumphant. She was still wringing her hands and talking to herself. My heart sank. She clearly had not seen my winning blow.

"Mother, did you see me win that duel?"

She jerked violently. Startled out of her trance, she stared at me, her eyes wide with fear. I was slightly scared. What had I done to frighten her?

"A duel?" she asked, her face drawn and white under her fur.

I quickly reassured her. "Just an imaginary one, Mama." I added the "mama" at the end to soften her. I had stopped calling her that a week after I was born. She missed it, and simply melted when I used it. I put it to good use now. I couldn't let her take my sword away. It seemed to work. Her face regained its color and she ruffled my fur.

"That's nice, darling. I'm glad you're having fun. Mind you, though, remember what I said. Please be very careful."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, when I spun around and speared a piece of cheese from the table next to her with my sword. This surprised her so much, she almost had a fainting spell. I was immediately contrite.

"I'm very sorry, Mama, that won't happen again. I promise." I popped the piece of cheese in my mouth. Mmmm. Brie, my favorite. I glanced at my mother, my cheeks bulging. "Would you like some? It's very good." I raised my sword to procure Mother a piece of cheese, but she stopped me with a cry.

"No, Felix, that's quite alright. I'm sure it's very good. I'm just not hungry right now. Please do not use your sword to grab food. You could get someone hurt." She sent me a warning glance. I knew I would have to be very careful with my sword. If I was too reckless, Mama would not hesitate to take it away. Even my father probably wouldn't be able to dissuade her.

My mother sighed. "What am I going to do with you? I'm going to rest now, Felix. If you need anything, I'll be in my room." She gave me a peck on my cheek and left.

After she had gone, I turned my sword on my hand to inspect it, even though I had done so already countless times. I smiled so much, my face hurt and my whiskers started to droop. I, too, was tired. Perhaps I could take a nap. All this dueling had left me exhausted. I curled up on the sofa with my trusty sword next to me. I gazed at it drowsily until I started to doze. My last thought before I drifted off was, _I wonder if I could get a ribbon to hold my sword at my side like those good-looking German officers have._


	3. Chapter 3

**My First Adventure(2)**

I awoke to a loud shriek. Well, as loud as a mouse shriek can be. To you humans, it sounds no louder than the buzz of a mosquito right in your ear. I immediately jumped off our matchbox couch and grabbed my sword. My senses were on high alert. I stealthily crept from our dining room and followed the scream to the World of the Unknown Dining Room. Here I stopped. My heart throbbed uncomfortably in my chest and sweat formed on my whiskers.

We mice had constructed a small door that opened to the Unknown Dining Room. When I little, older mice cousins, particularly the boys, liked to scare me with adventures they had been on when they ventured through that door. With these stories in mind, I took a deep breath and kicked the door open like I'd seen in the American spy movies. Behind the door was the beer cellar. It was dark and dank. I shivered; half from the cold and half from fear. I cautiously looked around, futilely trying to see in the darkness.

"Mother?" I called softly. "Are you in here?" I was met with silence. By this time, I was shaking with fright. My feet froze. I could not will my body to take even a small step forward. And I tell you, for a mouse, that is a very rare occurrence. Normally we are always on the move. I stood there in the darkness, petrified. At last, I head a noise. My head snapped to my left where I had heard it. I mustered all my courage and took one step to the left. My foot touched something and I froze. It was only a case of beer. I would have laughed if I had been able to. My heart was pounding, I could have sworn I heard it echo back. How I wished for some light!

Suddenly I remembered the small button lamp that was kept in the cellar. Some mice had put it there so we could see where we were going. Do you know how hard it is to climb up the wall and pull the chain to turn on your human light? We scamper up the wall and simply hope that we can lunge out far enough to grab on to the chain. If we're lucky, sometimes we are even able to blow the chain towards us so that we can grab it with our teeth. I'm telling you, it's hard work being a mouse! We're always there for you humans, but you never acknowledge all our efforts to help make sure the world runs smoothly. When you do see us, you scream. Especially you ladies. But you can't be picky about companionship during a war. Particularly if you live in a POW camp. Besides, at least I smell better than the rest. _I_ try to keep myself clean. Dear me, I _am_ getting ahead of myself. I'm so very sorry.

Anyway, I lit the button lamp and took it in my hand. Immediately a warm, yellow light illuminated the room about an inch around me. I took very small steps towards the noise. At last, I found it. There, right in front of me, was the biggest web I had ever seen. It was old, I could tell by the dust coating the web turning it grey. I raised the lamp carefully, looking for the spider who had made it. To my relief, no eight-legged creature appeared. But as my light cast on the very bottom of the web, I shrieked. (Yes, I can shriek under very trying circumstances. You ever tell anyone, I'll tell your mouse to leave you.) My mother was caught in the spider's web. Quite literally.

"Mother!" I yelled. I was so happy to see her, I started crying. (Yes, I can cry also. You tell anyone and I'll...well, you know what I'll do.) Through my tears, I could see she had started hyperventilating. I forced myself to stop crying and crept close to her. She needed help, but I didn't know what to do. I had to get her down from the web. Now. I frantically looked around for some help. At last, I shook myself. "Don't be an idiot, Felix," I said, "no one is going to be here. You're on your own."

I immediately regretted that not so peppy pep talk. The last sentence caused me to think about how alone and lost I was. _No one is going to help me. Mother and I are going to be trapped. It is all my fault. I can't do anything, I am just a small, undergrown mouse. I shouldn't even be here. It's not fair. I'm only two weeks old. This wasn't supposed to happen._ I huddled in the corner as these thoughts grew and grew. On every side, such accusations rained down mercilessly. I couldn't take anymore. I jumped up and shouted, "I can do it and I will!" Suddenly, I realized I held my sword in my hand. It had been completely forgotten in my fear. I was so relieved, I nearly fainted. Letting out a big sigh, I slumped against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

"Perfect," I said. "This will do nicely." I walked to the web and sliced Mother down. Dust and wings of old flies rained down on my handsome fur. I ignored the dust, but quickly blew a stray wing away from my mouth. I knelt down and tried my best to wipe away the web from Mother's fur. Even in such an instance, I knew she would appreciate my attempt at cleanliness. Especially when it was her own body. She washed herself with five different bars of scented soap. Another one of her "eccentric" habits.

She was still hyperventilating, so I hugged her tightly and tried to calm her down. I didn't know what to do. Yeah, I know. Make them breathe into a bag. Do you think they make bags small enough for mice? I tell you, they don't. It's just not fair at all. Say, that's a good idea. Maybe I should invent bags small enough for mice to breathe into. Oh, sorry, I'll get back to the story. Anyways, I couldn't find a paper bag, but I did find an old soda cap. It was next to a crate. I grabbed it and brought it up to her snout.

"Breathe deeply, Mother. Breathe with me." Together, we inhaled and exhaled. I kept the cap to her nose, though mice don't really have noises, and it seemed to work. Finally, she was back to normal. She was very weak, but she threw her arms around me and squeezed tightly. Mother started sobbing.

"Shhh. It's okay, Mama," I tried to comfort her. "Let's get you home, and you can take a bath. You'll feel a lot better afterward." I helped her up and gave her my arm for support. In my other hand, I clutched my sword and the button lamp. We walked to the door where I blew out the button lamp and set it down for the next mouse to use. Then I took Mama and led her through the door.

We were home.


	4. Chapter 4

**My Siblings**

A week after my first adventure, my parents came to me with "such exciting news" as they called it. Exciting news? More like a devastating change in my perfectly constructed way of life. I mean, for a mouse, I had a pretty good life. My allowance was a whole cheese cube a week. How much better can it get. I know, right?

My parents called me into the living room. I was extremely nervous. They only did that when I was in trouble. I couldn't imagine why. I had, after all, practically saved Mother's life. Then, my brain registered the "exciting news" part. I got excited. Maybe I was going to get a present for swooping in like a hero and saving Mother! I stopped my swordplay and hurried to the living room. There my parents sat looking nervous but very excited. My father especially. That was unusual, because normally it was my mother that got all flustered and nervous.

I scampered quickly to the room and stopped right outside the door. Hmm. Maybe I should make a grand entrance, or maybe a speech. Wasn't that what all the fancy movie stars did? And they hadn't even saved a life! So there I stood by the door, trying to decide between a really fancy kick like they did in those cool spy movies, or flinging open the door and somersaulting in. I had finally decided on the fancy kick, when I heard my parents' murmuring.

"How do you think he'll take it?" my mother fretted.

"I'm sure he'll be excited, dear," I heard my father say. "I always wanted a brother when I was his age."

"But this isn't going to be a brother. I can just feel it."

"Oh, please. Just because that's what an old blind grandmouse told you, doesn't make it true. And besides, everyone in my family has always had sons. It's practically tradition."

"Well maybe I want to break tradition!"

When I heard this, I slumped against the door. I couldn't believe it! My parents were having another child! And a girl no less. Everyone knew girls had gross cooties. Why you'd be contaminated if you even touched one. That's what, Billy, my classmate said. (Though looking back, I think he was too afraid a girl might take his place as class president. Which one did.) Why on earth would they want to do that? Was I not a perfect enough son? I knew I just had to save my parents from the terrible mistake they were making. I threw open the door and marched in. But before I could say anything, my mother grabbed me into a tight hug.

"You're going to have a little brother or sister!" my mother exclaimed.

I didn't say anything. Partly because I was still in shock, but mostly because of my mother's stranglehold on me. I looked at my father with pleading eyes. He sighed and placed a gentle hand on my mother's shoulder. Not like we really have shoulders, but you get the picture.

"Giselle, perhaps you should let go of him so he can breathe," he remarked gently.

She blushed. "Oh, of course." She loosened her grip on me. "I'm sorry, darling."

I took a few deep breathes. "That's all right, Mom." Before I knew what I was doing, I blurted out, "Why are you having another kid. I thought our family was perfect they way it was."

My mother's face softened. "Of course it is, dear. But don't you want to make it even more perfect? Just think, you'll now have someone to play with, and teach them how to do things. Won't that be fun?"

I shook my head. "No, I like my family just the way it is." I crossed my arms and pouted a little.

At this, my father entered the conversation. "Now look here, son. There's absolutely nothing you nor even me can do about this. Your mother is pregnant, and we are going to have another member in our family. Instead of thinking only about yourself, how about caring about what your mother wants and needs? It is time for you to grow up a little. Actually, having another sibling will be good for you. Now, no more complaints. Do you understand?"

I nodded meekly. He was right, and I knew it. But I was definitely not going to admit it. Instead, I kissed my parents and said goodnight. Back in my room on collapsed onto my matchbox bed and sighed. So many thoughts and questions ran through my head, crisscrossing like some sort of weird relay race. _Would I have to share my room? What about my toys? Oh no, even worse, what would happen to my cheese cube allowance?_ Babies cost a lot of money, I knew that much. _What if my parents loved this new mouse more than me?_ With these alarming thoughts racing through my head, I slowly drifted off. My last thought was, _life is about to change drastically._


End file.
